January 16, 2014

Good morning! I've missed this space:-). I've been thinking about it a lot, but the actual keyboard time hasn't presented itself very much. The days have been full; we're working hard as a team here in my house to right the ship and get back on course after a season of considerable turbulence. I doubt our days will ever be smooth sailing, but I'm not feeling quite so seasick this week as last.

Enough with the seafaring analogy.

Sewing is slow-going. I finished Sarah's pajama pants. I made her a Size 5, which is clearly too big. I'm trying to decide whether I want to take off the waistband and cut off an inch or so and then re-attach it. I'm definitely going to re-do the cuff and cuff it up the entire width of the contrast fabric. I don't want the pants to drag. I'm toying with the idea of making the shirt in a 4. If she were a big sister, I'd make the 4 and know I could hand them down when she outgrew them. But, she's not and I'd kind of like to see her wear them forever...

I'm on a C. S. Lewis binge these days. Actually, I've been on a C. S. Lewis binge for quite some time. I bought the C. S. Lewis Bible when we renovated the house in late 2012. It matched the living room paint and looked so pretty perched there. I did read it, however; it wasn't just for show. I kept thinking of my cousin Ellie's reference to pretty Bibles perched in family living rooms of our childhood and didn't want that. However, I didn't write in it. It's out there in open space and I encourage the kids to use it whenever they want, so I didn't really want my notes and highlighting in it. At the beginning of the year, I bought another so I'd have one to highlight. I'm using these pencils to highlight and I do kind of love them.

Mary Beth, Michael, and I have all reading through A Grief Observed. Mary Beth and I come together occasionally to think on it together. Grief is a strange thing and I've found we are approaching it very gently with one another. At the most recent funeral (yes, our funeral-going has extended into the new year), the priest quoted from Lewis' book. I think Mary Beth was surprised to hear that; Lewis wasn't Catholic after all. This observation has led to some good conversations about truth and about the man-made divisions in communities of faith. It's also led me to pull C. S. Lewis and the Catholic Church from my shelves and read it again with my current crop of teenagers.

I want to raise these children to know and love and understand the gift of the Church. I also want them to grow to be the kind of genuine Christians who meet people of all denominations in the place where Jesus is and to both share their own heart stories of His goodness and hear the stories others bring. Pearce's book is an excellent one for understanding how pride and prejudice of the denominational divide can affect the sense and sensibility of even the most brilliant and holy thinkers.

Homeschoolers have a reputation for hunkering down, for raising children in a bunker and not exposing them to either the secular world or to other religions, even other Christian religions. I think this is a mistake, especially in the high school years. Instead of avoiding anything that contradicts or challenges a family's belief system, it's important to come alongside them as they discover those things. They will discover them! If we leave that discovery to a time when they are supposedly more mature (and so, away from home), we might be surprised to learn that they have neither the wisdom nor the tools to navigate the confusion. It's far better, I think, to explore together and open a dialogue that will hopefully continue as they grow.

I'm also reading Lewis' The Problem of Pain with a friend. It's good to have a grown-up theological discussion right now. I'm in a place where I really want to dig deep and think some things through. And not just theological things. As I've pulled away from social media, I'm reading longer pieces--whole books, long articles, the slow, thoughtful pursuit of Scripture. I'm spending a lot of time with my Bible open and I'm journaling pages and pages on paper. I'm kind of obsessed with paper and pens these days. I think after years of tapping at keyboards, I've missed the feel of paper and the sense of order and satsifaction that comes with seeing my thoughts in front of me in my own handwriting. To be sure, those are the scribblings of pondering in my heart. I write them knowing that they are mine alone. Perhaps it's the assurance that I will protect them from exposure that has opened the floodgates. Or maybe it's just I really, really like using these pens;-).

What have you been sewing lately? Or are you embroidering? Pulling a needle with thread through lovely fabric to make life more beautiful somehow? Would you share with us just a single photo and a brief description of what you're up to? Would you talk sewing and books with us? I'd love that so much. Tell me about it in the comments or leave a link to your blog. I'll be happy to come by and visit!

You can get your own needle & thREAD button here in your choice of several happy colors.

September 10, 2013

Joy in Alabama asked about how we use E is for Eucharist, so I figured today is a good day to share our essential stack of faith books.

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E is for Eucharist is like many of the Sleeping Bear Press alphabet books. There is a picture for each letter of the alphabet which gently introduces a topic. A short rhyming quatrain approaches the topic on the simplest level, perfect for the little ones. Beneath it, there is a narrative paragraph which explores the topic in more depth. My children illustrate each letter's topic as we read and discuss it. Older children can also write or dictate a short narration and even research the topic further.

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An Alphabet of Catholic Saints is a sweet book with a short rhyme about a saint for every letter of the alphabet. Introducing saints alphabetically is a bit awkward. Saints come up in our daily life of worship as they are celebrated in the Mass. I worried aobut this being "all out of order, " but not for long. Now, we use this organizing system and we encounter the same saints on their special days, it's like meeting an old friend. Again, narrations are simple pictures and perhaps a dictated caption to add to their notebooks.

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An Alphabet of Mary beautifully introduces differents names and roles for the Blessed Mother. It's a lovey companion in the same style as the book above.

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That brings me to the Loyola Kids Book of Saints and the Loyola Kids Book of Heroes. These books bless and bless and bless. In the Alphabet Path lesson notes for each letter, we've pulled out the saints who belong. I like to read these aloud to younger children and have slightly older, independent readers read them to themselves. Then, the ones who read it on their own, keyboard a narration all on their own. I'll sit and edit for punctuation and spelling, but I mostly leave the narrations alone. These are gathered and loved into a notebook. True keepers.

June 10, 2013

I awoke this morning far earlier than I'd hoped. I really need a good night's sleep. I heard footsteps in the hall and then, I couldn't get back to sleep. I curled up with a steaming mug in a corner of the sunroom that would offer me this view.

Except it didn't. Rain pounded outside, so no sunlight poured through those windows. And the room looks very little like this right now. It's messy and disorganized and remnants of every "Let's Pretend" game in the last 72 hours are scattered about. I wasn't feeling particularly like studying scripture. I spent most of the weekend angry and disappointed. That doesn't usually bode well for mornings after. I'd left my Bible upstairs and it was so early I didn't really want to go back up and possibly disturb Mike. Still, something kept telling me that I really need some quality quiet time.

I pulled the C. S. Lewis Bible from its place in the living room. You know? The one I bought mostly because it matches the paint so well? First, I flipped to Tobit to read "the rest of the story" following the readings from daily Mass on Thursday. Um. No, I didn't. It's a Protestant Bible. No Tobit there. So I turned to Colossians, because I mostly know Colossians by heart and I just needed something familiar. And that's when pieces started to come together.

I think I've shared with you previously how I received a critical email about this post. The writer suggested that sanctity wasn't about "faking it," but about embracing pain and suffering. Her point of view has come to mind frequently in the years since she wrote, probably because she's someone I whom I consider thoughtful and very well intentioned. Of course we have to embrace pain and suffering, but not to the exclusion of "acting as if." I remembered her note again and again this weekend as I engaged in an ongoing dialogue in person with someone about "faking it."

I tried (in vain) to explain that even though sometimes we don't feel a certain way, we need to act a certain way. I suggested there was spiritual maturity in acting as if we were loving towards someone even if we didn't particularly like that person, of acting as if we were happy to be somewhere even if we'd rather be somewhere else. Sometimes, in the act of behaving as if we were loving, we actually do grow to be loving.

Embracing pain and suffering doesn't mean being all serious and dour and sackcloth and ashes all the time. I think it might mean working especially hard to find the good in something or someone and genuinely seeking to celebrate it. My companion argued vehemently that that was duplicitous and lacked authenticity. I tried (in vain) to explain that often when we behave in a gracious, accepting manner towards someone or something, we begin to feel more gracious towards that person or thing. It doesn't lower our standards or make us less "good." It might even make us more Christlike. He ate with tax collectors and allowed the prostitute to anoint Him. He was embracing and He wasn't even faking it. He actually saw the good and brought out the good. Of course, at heart, some people might be afraid that if they act so, they might actually love so. And they don't want to love. Then, it's probably a good idea to be still and ask oneslf and God why not.

It is, I think, one of the cleverest snares of the devil, to take the "good" people and have them draw circles about themselves whereupon they judge and exclude anyone they consider less "good" than themselves. The circle grows smaller and smaller until, at last, they are left standing alone, having missed countless opportunities to touch souls for Christ and having missed countless friendships God intended for them. There is pain and division and genuine sorrow in communities, and sadly, even in families.

The "good people" would do well to remember that the Church is a hospital. Christ is the Great Physician. And we are all sinners in need of healing. God uses us to bring relief to the wounded.

So, this morning, there in dear, familiar Colossians, was this C. S. Lewis quote. He's brilliant. He knew beter than to call it "faking it." He knew so well how to express this beautiful concept that isn't really faking it at all (my bad), but "putting on Christ."

What is the good of pretending to be what you are not? Well, even on the human level, you know, there are two kinds of pretending. There is a bad kind, where the pretence is there instead of the real thing; as when a man pretends he is going to help you instead of really helping you. But there is also a good kind, where the pretence leads up to the real thing. When you are not feeling particularly friendly but you know you ought to be, the best thing you can do, very often, is to put on a friendly manner and behave as if you were a nicer person than you actually are. And, in a few minutes, as we have all noticed, you will be feeling friendlier than you were. Very often the only way to get a quality in reality is to start behaving as if you had it already. That is why children's games are so important. They are always pretending to be grown-ups--playing soldiers, playing shop. But all the time, they are hardening their muscles and sharpening their wits so that the pretence of being grown-up helps them to grow up in earnest.

Now the moment you realise "Here I am dressing up as Christ," it is extremely likely that you will see at once some way in which at that very moment the pretence could be made less of a pretence and more of a reality. You will find several things going on in your mind which would not be going on there if you were really a son of God. Well, stop them. Or you may realise that, instead of saying your prayers, you ought to be downstairs writing a letter, or helping your wife to wash-up. Well, go and do it.

You see what is happening. The Christ himeslf, the Son of God who is man (just like you) and God (just like His Father) is actually at your side and is already at the moment beginning to turn your pretence into reality.

April 09, 2013

And we're talking about pruning in order to make room for Light and Warmth. What's crowding your spirit and obscuring God's access to your soul?

"Sometimes, it’s a slow process. Sometimes, we wake up one morning and find the whole bush covered with blackened, holey leaves. If we allow it, God begins to prune. Often, the pruning is painful, very painful. The only way to bear the pain of the pruning is to keep our eyes on the face of the Gardener. He has a plan. It’s a plan to save us, a plan to allow us to bloom abundantly. But first, He must strip us bare. And there we stand in the summer sun, naked in our seemingly barren state. Very little green remains, no blooms can be seen. We need to begin again, confident that the Gardener will provide all we need to grow and flourish." Please read the rest here.

March 14, 2013

{no needle & thREAD today. I'll be updating here throughout the day. If you have links to add to our list as we teach our children about Pope Francis, please, please share in the comments! Scroll to the bottom for new links and ideas to celebrate Pope Francis)

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As the next few weeks unfold, my children will create a notebook to honor Pope Benedict XVI and to document the election of a new pope. Here is a rough outline of that notebook, based upon the ones we did eight years ago. I am absolutely certain that this outline will change as I become more aware of new resources. Please, please, feel free to leave your ideas and resources in the comments and I'll update the post as we go.

::A narration from each child who remembers when Benedict XVI was elected. We have our notebooks from last time to remind us of that day. For children to young to remember, we'll type a dictation of what they've learned in their reading and from brothers and sisters.

“Dear Brothers and Sisters: After the great Pope John Paul II, the Lord Cardinals have elected me, a simple and humble worker in the vineyard of the Lord.

I am consoled by the fact that the Lord knows how to act, even with inadequate instruments and above all I entrust myself to your prayers.

In the joy of the Risen Lord, trusting in His permanent help, as we go forward the Lord will help us, and His Mother, Mary Most Holy, is on our side Thank you”.

*Prayer for Benedict XVI:

Lord, source of eternal life and truth, give to Your shepherd, the Pope, a spirit of courage and right judgement, a spirit of knowledge and love.

By governing with fidelity those entrusted to his care may he, as successor to the apostle Peter and vicar of Christ, build Your church into a sacrament of unity, love, and peace for all the world.

We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ, Your Son, Who lives and reigns with You and the Holy Spirit, one God, forever and ever. Amen.

*Copywork for big kids:

Dear Brothers, I have convoked you to this Consistory, not only for the three canonizations, but also to communicate to you a decision of great importance for the life of the Church.

After having repeatedly examined my conscience before God, I have come to the certainty that my strengths, due to an advanced age, are no longer suited to an adequate exercise of the Petrine ministry.

I am well aware that this ministry, due to its essential spiritual nature, must be carried out not only with words and deeds, but no less with prayer and suffering.

However, in today’s world, subject to so many rapid changes and shaken by questions of deep relevance for the life of faith, in order to govern the bark of Saint Peter and proclaim the Gospel, both strength of mind and body are necessary, strength which in the last few months, has deteriorated in me to the extent that I have had to recognize my incapacity to adequately fulfill the ministry entrusted to me.

For this reason, and well aware of the seriousness of this act, with full freedom I declare that I renounce the ministry of Bishop of Rome, Successor of Saint Peter, entrusted to me by the Cardinals on 19 April 2005, in such a way, that as from 28 February 2013, at 20:00 hours, the See of Rome, the See of Saint Peter, will be vacant and a Conclave to elect the new Supreme Pontiff will have to be convoked by those whose competence it is.

Dear Brothers, I thank you most sincerely for all the love and work with which you have supported me in my ministry and I ask pardon for all my defects.

And now, let us entrust the Holy Church to the care of Our Supreme Pastor, Our Lord Jesus Christ, and implore his holy Mother Mary, so that she may assist the Cardinal Fathers with her maternal solicitude, in electing a new Supreme Pontiff.

With regard to myself, I wish to also devotedly serve the Holy Church of God in the future through a life dedicated to prayer.

Electing a New Pope 3 page PDF for children, suitable to print and put in notebooks. alternatively, children who are old enough can narrate this process to be keyboarded by mom. If they are able, they can write it themselves.

On the night of the election, we had empanadas for dinner (and Malbec for the grownups). I didn't make them from scratch. Mike picked them up from his favorite hole-in-wall empanada place in DC. But here are several recipes and thoughts on freezing. Might be nice on March 19, the date of the installation.

February 04, 2013

Here's the quick tutorial to answer some questions and then some links to help you plan and give you some time to actually do this before next week.

Remember those wooden mantel letters? During Lent, they say "Repent" (take the "Prepare" purple letters from Advent, and make an "N" and a "T"--you're all set to spell REPENT). For the Easter season, they spell "Alleluia." They are painted gold and covered with "diamond dust" glitter. On Fat Tuesday, I take out the ALLELUIA letters and make a big deal of spelling out "Alleluia." I let the children chant, sing, and even yell "Alleluia" in order to "get the Alleluias out." Then, I solemnly put the golden letters in a purple bag and explain that the Church doesn't say "Alleluia" during Lent and that we will "hide our Alleluias" until it's Easter.I hide the purple bag with the Alleluias in it (and tell someone where I put them;-). Then, it's Lent. And it's quiet.

For the last few years, there has been a daily Lenten Fast::Pray::Give prompt here for you. Shall we do that again this year? I'd mostly republish the old, familiar ones from Lents past. Would that be helpful?

January 29, 2013

Last year was pretty huge. I was so tired, so completely spent at this year's beginning that I noticed year-in-review posts on other blogs, and just pulled the quilt up tighter around my ears and closed my eyes. I didn't have the energy--physical or spiritual--to revisit it all, even virtually. It was just.so.much.

Our culture is so youth oriented. For the most part it seems, no one really searches out ways to be older. We celebrate 21 in a big way. We mark midlife with black-themed birthday cards and bad jokes about being over the hill. I think I bought into that mentality a bit. And I think I know a big reason I was such easy prey.

I was so dang tired. The truth is that this wholehearted, all-in, very attached parenting style had depleted me to the equivalent of soil dust. Nothing rich was growing there. If this was what the mid-forties felt like, I could not imagine sixty.

But I have a four-year-old. And my most fervent prayer is to grow old healthy, and holy, and helpful. I want to be there for her. I want to see how the story unfolds. I want to get out of bed in the morning without my knees cracking so loudly it wakes my husband.

In the blur that was the new year, friends were choosing words for the year--just single words upon which to focus, meditate, seek wisdom. A word to live for the whole year. I couldn't wrap my brain around one.

That's it. That's the word. It's the word that says that this stage in life is not the beginning of the end. It's the beginning, instead, of something better, stronger, wiser, and yes--older. But older in the richest way. That's certainly being proven true in marriage. Did you know that the sweetest wine is grown from the oldest vineyards? Grapes grow best when the farmer works in harmony in with the earth, when he embraces the whole and considers that plant and the land around it as they were endowed by the Creator, with an eye towards preserving the quality for a long time. The goal of biodynamic farming is to be sustainable. When you grow grapes, you draw something from the soil and you have to replenish that.

This image works so well for me. The Bible is rich with imagery of vineyards. Clearly, God wants us to consider how to grow in a sustainable way in order to renew the face of the earth. I've never been more certain of that than I was this morning. I had written the above over the course of the last few weeks. I clicked over to visit Aimee in order to link to her in my post. When I did, I learned she's writing today about sustainable homeschooling. My jaw dropped and I smiled widely at God's thunk over my head. If ever I asked for a sign that I was on the right track, I got a clear answer at 7:00 AM on Tuesday January 29th while visiting Aimee's blog. It's a post that just might easily have catapulted to my favorite home education post ever this morning. There is wisdom there, my friends. Rich, rich wisdom. Get this: middle aged wisdom. Yep. There is wisdom and it's invaluable.

I look around at the friends with whom I've had babies and I am blessed to know that they've grown wise. How amazing! We all learned something during those hazy, intense, sleep-deprived years.

So, now I embrace renewal. I look to tend the vineyard of my soul, to be sure, but I am not going to neglect the rest of me any more. The big picture of renewal is one that encompasses physical health, spirtual growth, creative energy and enthusiasm, and an invigorated sense of hope and optimism for the future. I look to my home, to my homeschooling, to the relationships within these walls and to the people I love beyond these walls. Renewal. All of it is waiting to be made new again.

What a different perspective than that of a withering towards an inevitable end. We can renew and renew and renew again, until our dying breath. God is generous that way.

The last two weeks at Mass, an old familiar hymn has settled on my soul in a new way. I've listened to You Are Mine and heard the refrain of stillness. I will come to you in the silence. But I've also heard the rest. I heard the echoes of Isaiah 43:1

But now, thus says the LORD,

who created you, Jacob, and formed you, Israel:

Do not fear, for I have redeemed you;

I have called you by name: you are mine.

There is nothing to fear. I am redeemed.

And the promise of John 14:27

Peace I leave with you; my peace I give to you. Not as the world gives do I give it to you. Do not let your hearts be troubled or afraid

Transitions can be scary. Aging can be scary. Renewal, though? The sustainable model of growth that keeps us renewing until we reach heaven? That's peace.

Last year, was a hard year. It was exhausting. It was a compost year, I think. A year of creating very fertile ground for renewal.

January 28, 2013

We are in the midst of one of the infamous wintry mix storms so familiar to this region. Right now, ice is coating everything. My fervent hope is that I can get some pictures before the whole things turn to cold rain.

::listening to

Ice falling hard and fast against the house.

::clothing myself in

A sweatshirt and sweatpants. Schools have been closed for the day. That might just mean I have no where to go unless I choose to go to the gym later this afternoon. And that might just mean I'll wear sweats all day long.

::talking with my children about these books

Snow books. Poor Sarah was absolutley traumatized by My Brother Loved Snowflakes . Bentley dies of pneumonia. Mary Beth has had pneumonia this winter. Just a little too much for my sensitive four-year-old to process.

::thinking and thinking

about renewal. It's been a long time since I've intentionally taken care of my body. I tend to push myself to the absolute outer limits of endurance, but not in a good way. This January, at Mike's insistence, I've really been paying attention to exercise and relaxation and sleep. Still don't have the nutrition thing nailed down, but the rest is coming together. Now, I see just how merciless I've been to myself.

::pondering prayerfully

"Remember the precept that St. John the Evangelist used to give to his disciples: “Love one another.” Since it is not a mere exhortation, but a command, it would be sinful to do otherwise. Therefore, do away with insults, quarrels, envy, revenge, mockery, or bad will. Be good to one another. This will prove that you love each other like brothers."

- Don Bosco

The feast of St. John Bosco is January 31. There is a treasure trove of great information and resources here.

::carefully cultivating rhythm

Schools are closed today, but not here. I remind my children that all those January long weekends for teacher workdays and the random snow days easily add up to a week in the woods in April when the bluebells bloom and everyone else is stuck inside. Now, if we were to get significant snow, I could persuaded to call a snow day .

We've also been meandering down the Alphabet Path. Last week, H was for "heart" and we did some tweaking to the Valentine plan.

::begging prayers

for all the intentions of our prayer community. Also, Elizabeth DeHority is facing a formidable struggle this week as she battles an opportunistic infection. Her bone marrow is utterly depleted and her body has very little with which to fight.

Christian took over my kitchen several times last week. He made New England clam chowder that was met with deep sighs of approval, an amazing dinner of grilled chicken, creamed spinach and mashed potatoes, and then a raspberry chocolate cheesecake. He's got some impressive skills. He's got absolutely no desire to cook according to anyone's dietary limitations;-).

For my part, a friend challenged me to eat a salad every day. Nicholas took it a bit further and asked if I could somehow turn their dinner meals into salads for myself. I played with my food a bit last week and it was fun. I'll share it here on Wednesday, I think.

::loving the moments

When I have a chance to catch up with a friend. My friend Barbara joined me to watch Stephen and Nicky play basketball on Saturday and we had a whole hour to just sit and chat. And Colleen called from Costa Rica on Sunday and we had absolutely the best phone connection we've ever had.

Patrick was there for the basketball game, too, and he brought a friend home from school with him. It was nice to have them in the stands and I know the "little brothers" loved it.

::giving thanks

for safe travels. Patrick came home last weeked. Christian drove down to Charlottesville and back in the snow without incident. And Mike was gone last week, but traveled home from Miami safely last night and is tucked up in bed while the sky rains ice.

Ginny and I sat down a couple of weeks ago and sketched out some plans for celebrating the rhythm of the Church year with our families. We're really looking forward to bringing those plans to life and our kids are, too!

::planning for the week ahead

Pretty mellow week, I think. I have a hunch that a popcorn ball nibble did some bad things to a tooth, so there is likely to be some dental visits in my future. Other than that, it's just some lovely "normal" and a visit from friends on Wednesday to do some candle crafting.

Oh, and Stephen turns fourteen on Friday. I'm not a huge fan of fourteen, but I think Stephen is just the guy to change my perception;-) He's on board to take on the challenge of re-branding fourteen.

January 18, 2013

Joy. Pink, sparkly letters glint the word from my mantel.
They’ve been there since Gaudete Sunday and they will remain there through
January. Joy. That Christmas morning joy. I want to hold it, keep it, live
it well past the last few notes of
“We Three Kings.”

Christmas is exhausting. Who’s with me here? Moms? There’s
so much heart and soul and effort and energy poured into the tastes and
treasures and traditions of the holiday. Sometimes it’s easy to lose sight of
the soul-gift we are given. But when the afternoon light is
bouncing off the ornaments and bits of paper and ribbon remain in the corner
beneath the tree and I have a moment to sit and be still in the quiet giddiness
that comes after Christmas morning, I know joy. I hold it close, examine it
carefully, tell myself not to forget.

And then there’s the flu. It came to visit, too. Virginia,
it’s not Christmas any more.

If it’s genuine joy though, can it be lost? In the tired and
the cold and the mundane of the post-holiday days, do we really lose joy?

St. Francis of Assisi wrote “When spiritual joy fills
hearts, the Serpent throws off his deadly poison in vain. The devils cannot
harm the servant of Christ when they see he is filled with holy joy.” When
Christmas fills us, when the Baby truly enters us and stays there, even January
is joy.

Mothers, especially, are guardians of joy. Whether we intend
to or not, we set the tone in our households. I watch my children carefully and
I see the serpents circling. What to do? How to fill their hearts with
spiritual joy and banish the serpents from my home? Blessed Mother Teresa
gently reminds me that “Joy is infectious; therefore, always be full of joy.”
Later, she says, “Joy is a net of love by which you can catch souls. A joyful
heart is the inevitable result of a heart burning with love. “ It begins with
me. I must fill myself with joy so that it spills into every crevice of my
home.

Joy is the Small Steps virtue for January. This January, I'm resolved to teach it, to share, to live it together.

New year’s resolution? To fill heart and soul to overflowing
with Jesus so that joy is contagious. To listen to Him daily in the Word. To
thank Him always, affirming that He is the font of all blessings and that He is
even God over adversity. To trust in His sovereignty and willfully make Him
lord of all. To worship Him daily in the Mass. To gratefully take Him into
myself in Communion. And to remain in constant conversation. Contagious
Christmas Joy. All year ‘round.

January 01, 2013

I almost didn't do it. I debated and debated, wrestled in my mind and spent a ridiculous amount of time wondering what they would think. Proper enough? Stylish enough? Fancy enough? What would they think?

In the end, I went for it. TOMS for the wedding just seemed like the perfect thing to do. The girls really wanted to do it. The bride was on board. We could buy five pairs of TOMS for us and then TOMS would give five pairs of shoes to children in need. Honestly, it was the most liberating decision I made. I worried a lot about money over the last four months. We spent a lot of money the last four months. But this money? This was money well spent. My girls love these shoes. They were comfortable and adorable on Saturday. The girls and I will wear them all the time until we wear them out. And they looked just perfectly us. Even better, TOMS gave us a way to give even as we were clothing ourselves. Days later, every time I see sparkling little feet, my heart skips for joy.

I've made a lot of decisions in the last year. We renovated our house. We helped plan a wedding. We took a trip. All of those things were out of my comfort zone. We did big, big things. And there were old voices in my head all the while. Voices that raise objections to the choices I've made. A house full of noisy, messy children. A giant van and a really old car. School at home. A handmade life. I cared too much about what the voices thought, about approval, about appreciation.

A life woven around liturgy, every single day. It looked so different to them, so odd, so unimportant. They didn't say it right out loud, but I knew they were talking. I cared about what they thought, even as I deliberately chose a very different path. I could hear the voices. Voices that contradict the life I've chosen. Voices that care way too much about the way things look and not nearly enough about the way things really are.

They're quiet now. I choose not to listen ever again.

I've slipped my feet into a pair of TOMS (I didn't wear them for the wedding, preferring a very pretty pair of gold heels, but I did wear them until moments before and immediately after) and I've walked away from a legacy of mirages and facades.

Never have I been so sure of Sacrament as I was whilst kneeling in prayer as Ave Maria was sung after communion at the Nuptial Mass. Never have I been so sure that this life of faith--the one that found us and the one we've pursued--is so well worth the effort it takes to live it in the current culture. Never have I been so sure that being true to my own soul, to making decisions that match the vision my Maker has of me, is how to be truly joyful, in happy times and in times when sadness envelopes me.

God's plan is not the plan that has been trumpeted by those voices all these years. They sound like cheap tin horns now.

God's plan is voiced in a quiet whisper on a way-too-early morning while cradling a croupy toddler. And God's plan is voiced in a glorious, triumphant shout on an afternoon in the octave of Christmas in a breathtaking church.

God's voice is the steady, guiding cadence of the liturgy, day in and day out. It is in the words of the Mass, every single carefully crafted one of them.

It is the very Word that breathed life into our souls and the only genuine breath of life. His voice is peace and that peace is mine.

December 31, 2012

So many moments I want to remember. Not for a second can I begin to capture them here. I think I've hesitated to put words to the moments because I'm quite sure I can't adequately express my heart. So, let's just try to catch a few moments.

::This was a small, intimate wedding. Of all my girlfriends, only two were there. They came with their cameras and they offered us the gift of their art. Forever, we will remember the wedding through their eyes. For me, I know I entrusted wedding memories to kindred spirits who know my heart. That's a rare treasure. Several years ago, a photographer named Lori asked if I'd like her to take pictures in the bluebells. I hesitated, because those woods are so very special and personal to our family. I couldn't fathom a photoshoot there. Mike encouraged me to jump at the chance. All through that beautiful day in the woods, Lori kept saying, "You have to meet my friend Ginny. You two--you're a lot alike." I met Ginny in those same woods a couple years later. And our friendship has grown into a treasure of my heart. The gift of these pictures is just the beginning. The gift of their understanding was priceless.

::Mary Beth was terribly sick the week before the wedding. So many of my logistical plans hinged on her. At the last moment, Kristin suggested we invite Mary Beth's darling friend Molly to be one of the family for the weekend. And Molly--lover of weddings--enthusiastically jumped in. I think that between eleven o'clock Friday evening and the march down the aisle Saturday, Molly spent eight hours curling hair. She was sweet and gracious and wonderful and willing to do anything to make the day fairytale perfect. Girlfriends. They're the best.

::Seven minutes before I was to walk down the aisle, Patrick knocked on the Bride's Room door. He insisted that Michael needed to see me immediately. Fighting panic, I practically sprinted across the back of the church to the sacristy. I looked at all the people gathered and briefly wondered if the groom had cold feet. I ducked inside and Michael held a small, tissue-wrapped package. "Kristin and I don't want you to cry. But we thought you should have this before the wedding." Inside, was a handkerchief embroidered with the familiar words of a bedtime story I've read a million times in the last 24 years. They were the words my children have sung at bedtime into Mike's voicemail when he is away. When I first read Love You Forever, I thought it was creepy. What mother picks up grown sons when they are sleeping to rock them? Totally weird. As my boys have grown though, I've understood the message. Mothers never stop wanting to make the world safe, to keep their babies close and ensure they know they're loved. Never. When my friend Jan saw a picture of the handkerchief, she said, "Nothing could have made you happier." She is so right.

::All weekend long, I got text messages and emails and sweet notes from girlfriends who were holding me in prayer. Never have I seen the Holy Spirit and the communion of saints so visibly. Not a one was hurt that they weren't there. They understood. And then they prayed.

::There was moment before the girls walked down the aisle that I think has escaped everyone's camera. Just outside the sacristy door, my five boys gathered themselves into a huddle. I'm not sure what all was said. I hear that Michael told Paddy how much he appreciated the latter's decision to forego earrings on this day. What else? I don't know. I just know that the sight of them there filled my heart to its fullest and made my husband's eyes spill over. Patrick's girlfriend Hilary was sitting next to us. I caught her eye. We looked at Mike. And the three of us shared the moment. One day, God willing, I will be very old. My memory will fail. I dearly hope that someone will remind me of that moment. I never want to forget.

::The plan for the recessional was for me to take Sarah's hand and Mike to take Karoline's hand and my arm and then for the four of us to walk down the aisle. Karoline escaped Mike and skipped all the way down the aisle. Oh, yes she did. And she caught the spirt of our joy as she always does.

::This was a handmade wedding. The flowers were a gift of love from Kristin's roommate. Kristin sewed her own veil and upcycled her rehearsal dinner dress from a vintage wedding dress. We had a wedding favor party in my kitchen on Nutcracker weekend and assembled darling gifts for guests. The cake was the creation and gift of Megan Kampa, one of Michael's childhood friends and homeschooling buddies. It was carried into the reception hall by their friend Billy, now a marine. Hours and hours of love went into the details. And hours and hours of love are still being poured into the photographs. Handmade. Heartfelt. So good. (Lots of those pictures are on Instagram @heartofmyhome or you can click the camera icon on the sidebar.)

::I thoroughly enjoyed the little chats I had with Kristin's friends and relatives. Small weddings are truly wonderful for making meaningful connections. I don't think I've ever known a more thoughtful bride.

::Nicholas gave a toast that brought the house down. It was so good that the wait staff in the room left to go get the rest of the staff to come hear the twelve-year-old who is now seriously contemplating a career as a stand-up comic. He'd have to take his ghostwriter with him. Christian, no doubt, is a gifted speechwriter. Genius was the word I heard more than once.

::Michael swept Karoline up to dance Sweet Caroline. Not a dry eye in the house.

::At the end of the evening, after Ginny and Lori had headed home, Michael played the song that Mike had chosen for our first dance twenty-five years ago. My husband held me close and I could not take my eyes off his face. I just kept saying, "We did this. We did this." I didn't mean the wedding. I meant something much, much bigger. God. Mike. Me. Together for something big. Mike understood. I'm pretty sure there are no pictures of the dance. I'll never forget, though.

November 29, 2012

I've been sewing lots and lots lately. Still making window treatments:-). I'm learning that if there's fabric involved, it doesn't take me long to get to my happy place. I'm also learning that sewing is even better with friends. My friend Cari has been here often to help me with draperies and it's just so nice to wrok together, to have long conversations, and share a passion for fiber arts! We've been trading fabric and yarn and lots of ideas. My project list is growing quite long. (Speaking of project lists, Deborah has some insight to that today. even if you've never sewn and never plan to, this post is a very good read.)

I've also found that I love to teach other people to sew. Since I'm so new at this, those "other people" are mostly children. Last week, Megan's daughter Katie came over for sewing and tea. I helped her create a ribbon-hemmed skirt. This sweet skirt is such a great first project! (Here's a link to a free tutorial.) The results are nearly instantly gratifying. She sewed so well and was such a dear little sponge.

When Megan came to pick her up, Katie beamed her success. Truly darling. Then, Sarah told Megan that she has three ribbon hemmed skirt and I helped her make them all. Megan asked what Sarah did when she sewed her skirts. "I gave Mommy the pins to put in the skirt. And then she gave them to me to put in the pincushion. She was a big help." Yep. In her darling little brain, she sewed those skirts. And that's all good.

I'm reading Chesterton this year, to celebrate the Year of Faith (more on the plan here). I took a picture of my reading and knitting yesterday to write a Yarn Along post. Then, Cari came to sew and I forgot all about blogging. So, here's my read:

So what's happening out there in needle and thread world? Are you working on Christmas presents? Christmas decorations? Winter jammies? Do tell.

Make sure the link you submit is to the URL of your blog post or your specific Flickr photo and not your main blog URL or Flickr Photostream. Please be sure and link to your current needle and thREAD post below in the comments, and not a needle and thREAD post from a previous week. If you don't have a blog, please post a photo to the needle & thREAD group at Flickr.

Include a link back to this post in your blog post or on your flickr photo page so that others who may want to join the needle and thREAD fun can find us! Feel free to grab a button here (in one of several colors) so that you can use the button to link:-)

November 13, 2012

I took the Facebook and Twitter apps off my phone last week. The noise had become unbearable. Now, I check in on my laptop, timer ticking, in the morning and in the evening. I'm amazed at the difference in my distraction level. Clearly, I was checking in and engaging way more often than I recognized. It's good to look up more, instead of down at that screen.

Yesterday afternoon, I planned to settle into my booth and write while Sarah and Karoline were at ballet. Alas, there was no charge on my compuer and I'd neglected to pack a charger. So, I took a walk instead.

With me, I carried the the very real and very large medical sadness of Lynn, of Elizabeth DeHority and of another dear and very close woman. It's ironic; after the election I heard a pundit from the "losing side" reflect that at least he didn't get up in the morning and discover a lump. His world would go on and unless there was that crisis, nothing else was a crisis.

But what if there were that crisis? Three people I love are living that crisis. Well, lots more people than that are living that crisis, but these three are in my constant thoughts. And in my mind, I live that crisis, too. With my what-ifs and my very overactive imagination.

I set off on my walk down a familiar path, listening to and praying along with the familiar voices at Divine Office. As the hymn played, my mind wandered. Initially, I lamented the fact that fall was slipping away. Soon, these trees would be stripped bare. I kicked myself for neglecting to get the beeswax and gather the leaves to dip before the hurricane, for failing to capture autumn in its glory. I brought myself back into the prayer.

The Holy Spirit nudged me to capture the day, the very moment for the gloriousness it was, right now. I looked up. I noticed. How absolutely perfect was just this day, just this fading afternoon! What if I could do that with every moment of my life? What if I could stay --constant prayer supporting me-- in the very moment I was living? No lamentations about what could have been, no gripping fears about what lies ahead, just profound and startling awareness and gratitude for what is right now?

“Give your entire attention to what God is doing right now, and don’t get worked up about what may or may not happen tomorrow. God will help you deal with whatever hard things come up when the time comes." Matthew 6:34

"I’ll show up and take care of you as I promised and bring you back home. I know what I’m doing. I have it all planned out—plans to take care of you, not abandon you, plans to give you the future you hope for." Jeremiah 29:11

October 11, 2012

On October 11, 2012
the Catholic Church officially begins its celebration of the Year of Faith. To
celebrate the occasions of the 50th anniversary of the Second
Vatican Council and the 20th anniversary of the promulgation of the
Catechism of the Catholic Church, Pope Benedict XVI leads the faithful in a
three-fold mission for the next year. (If you haven’t begun at all, no worries;
it’s actually a little more than a year.) Especially this year, we are called
to know the Christian faith, to live the faith with every breath, and to
generously share the faith. Let’s begin with some ideas for getting to know the
faith a little (or a lot) better.

As the year begins,
take some time to make a plan. Be intentional about soaking up the graces that
come with an entire year focused on faith. Seize the opportunity to really do this thing. As a family, how will you
grow in your knowledge of the faith?
Begin with a Bible for everyone. My preferred adult Bible is the
Ignatius Catholic Study Bible.
It’s just the New Testament for now, but I know I will fill in with lots of Old
Testament study praying the Liturgy of the Hours. For teens, Amy Welborn has the wonderful Prove It! Catholic Teen Bible. For
children, My Big Book of Catholic Bible
Stories is absolutely perfect for the Year of Faith. There are Bible
stories, Catechism lessons, and notes on devotions, all woven into an engaging
book with charming illustrations. Finally, I encourage you to commit to setting
aside some time every week for Family Night. Jeff and Emily Cavins have a
valuable online resource for a weekly family Bible study that will bring the
Mass readings of the week to life and bring the family together.

What better way to
celebrate the anniversary of the Catechism than to read the Catechism? It seems
a daunting task to tackle on one’s own. The folks at Flocknote have made it
simpler and less lonely. Every morning, they will send you
an email with just a bit of the Catechism to read that day. You can stop there,
or you can click a little further and join an online discussion about the topic
at hand. It’s all free and it couldn’t be much simpler to get going and take
part in a movement that was already 27,000 strong the day before the Year of
Faith began.

If you are up
for a full-fledged course that you can access from the comfort of your couch,
check out the free Pillars of Catholicism online course offered by John Paul
the Great University. If you’d prefer not to use an online
resource, you might enjoy watching the ten part Catholicism DVD series from Word on Fire.

For those who
would rather hold a book-based resource, Fr. Mitch Pacwa has written The Year of Faith: A Bible Study Guide for
Catholics. Designed to use in a group or alone, this book seeks to foster
conversion, growth in faith, and friendship with Jesus. Fr. Pacwa aims to show
us how to integrate every component of life into a meaningful, faith-filled
whole. One of our family’s most trusted resources also lends itself to a daily
study. Alone or as a family, you can work your way through the excellent Catholic Christianityby Peter Kreeft,
just a little at a time, every day with breakfast.

Many will
recognize a beloved resource in Magnificat. For the Year of Faith,
Magnificat has published a comprehensive, page-a-day booklet designed to
strengthen the life of faith. Each day features one of eight cornerstones of
the Catholic Faith: faith profiles, the Word of God, Catechism, devotions,
essays, meditations, prayers, and poems.
Finally, as the year progresses, I encourage you to check in at Patheos
online. There is a dedicated year of
Faith portal which will be
curated all year long, ensuring that we will never be in need of food for
thought and prayer.

September 23, 2012

If you've ever been to my house, chances are excellent to 100% that you have seen one of these prayer cards laying around. I ordered them in bulk when Karoline Rose was born to include in her birth announcements. And I've ordered more every year since. The rose novena is most definitely how we begin to prepare for the feast of this saint, who is so, so dear to our family. Karoline's name, of course is a tribute to St. Therese's promise to shower roses upon the earth and Karoline tells everyone she knows that she is, indeed, a rose sent from heaven. Katie was baptized Kirsten Therese, so she, too, is named for St. Therese. And there is lots of evidence of her presence on this blog because there is lots of evidence of her presence in our lives as a family.

We will go to Mass, of course, to celebrate with the Universal Church. There will be roses. Michael is Katie's godfather and buys her miniature roses ("Little Flowers") on this day--just as long as I remind him;-). For this year, the girls are all abuzz about this pan, I purchased last summer. So, a rose-shaped cake. But I'm still not sure what the recipe will be. Any suggestions would be most welcomed in my inbox. Extra points if you have a grain freen recipe that works in a pan like this. It's a season for miracles, no?

One of Trish's candles (in that amazing St. Therese rose scent) will be lit before the icon. Mary Beth took Therese as her confirmation name and Patrick's godmother blessed her with this beautiful image.

I have learned over time that this is one feast I do not overplan, despite the fact that it is huge day in our family. St. Therese has a history of showering us with her love in most unexpected ways.

The novena begins September 23, to prepare for the October 1st feast.

*September 23 is the feast of our favorite Capuchin, St. Padre Pio. In our house, that means cappucino all around:-)

July 28, 2012

The internet is a formidable force for bringing the comfort and consolation and hope of the Lord to all of us. It can be an incredibily powerful medium for community. There is an unfathomable resource for prayer here. We have on the 'net the privilege of praying for people and of being witness to the miracles brought forth when fervent, faith-fulled people pray for one another.

Let's be that community of hope and faith for one another.

How about this idea? What if I pop in here every weekend, share Sunday's gospel and talk a wee bit about how we can live it and pray it in our homes? And then you tell me how we can pray for you that week? Deal?

{And please, do return and let us know how prayer is bearing fruit.}

My heart is with the family of Don Perry, spokesman for Chick-Fil-A, who died unexpectedly this week. Please pray for the repose of his soul and for the comfort and consolation of his family.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Gospel

Jesus went across the Sea of Galilee.A large crowd followed him,because they saw the signs he was performing on the sick.Jesus went up on the mountain,and there he sat down with his disciples.The Jewish feast of Passover was near.When Jesus raised his eyesand saw that a large crowd was coming to him,he said to Philip,"Where can we buy enough food for them to eat?"He said this to test him,because he himself knew what he was going to do.Philip answered him,"Two hundred days' wages worth of food would not be enoughfor each of them to have a little.'"One of his disciples,Andrew, the brother of Simon Peter, said to him,"There is a boy here who has five barley loaves and two fish;but what good are these for so many?"Jesus said, "Have the people recline."Now there was a great deal of grass in that place.So the men reclined, about five thousand in number.Then Jesus took the loaves, gave thanks,and distributed them to those who were reclining,and also as much of the fish as they wanted.When they had had their fill, he said to his disciples,"Gather the fragments left over,so that nothing will be wasted."So they collected them,and filled twelve wicker baskets with fragmentsfrom the five barley loavesthat had been more than they could eat.When the people saw the sign he had done, they said,"This is truly the Prophet, the one who is to come into the world."Since Jesus knew that they were going to come and carry him offto make him king,he withdrew again to the mountain alone.

Think

"The sense of futility is one of the greatest evils of the day...People say, "What can one person do? What is the sense of our small effort?" They cannot see that we can only lay one brick at a time, take one step at a time; we can be responsible only for the one action of the present moment. But we can beg for an increase of love in our hearts that will vitalize and transform all our individual actions, and know that God will take them and multiply them, as Jesus multiplied the loaves and fishes."

~Servant of God Dorothy Day

Act

What is it in you life about which you feel that sense of futility? Is it serving your family by conquering that mound of laundry? Is it opening your home more often in the spirit of hospitality? Is it stretching yourself to go into the corners of despair that aren't really very far from your home? Ask God to give you the strength and grace to begin with the first brick.

Pray

Lord, you give us all five barley loaves and two fish. Please help me to recognize them in my life, to prayerfully offer them back to you, and to be the instrument of your miracles.

June 16, 2012

The internet is a formidable force for bringing the comfort and consolation and hope of the Lord to all of us. It can be an incredibily powerful medium for community. There is an unfathomable resource for prayer here. We have on the 'net the privilege of praying for people and of being witness to the miracles brought forth when fervent, faith-fulled people pray for one another.

Let's be that community of hope and faith for one another.

How about this idea? What if I pop in here every weekend, share Sunday's gospel and talk a wee bit about how we can live it and pray it in our homes? And then you tell me how we can pray for you that week? Deal?

{And please, do return and let us know how prayer is bearing fruit.}

Gospel

Jesus said to the crowds:"This is how it is with the kingdom of God;it is as if a man were to scatter seed on the landand would sleep and rise night and dayand through it all the seed would sprout and grow,he knows not how.Of its own accord the land yields fruit,first the blade, then the ear, then the full grain in the ear.And when the grain is ripe, he wields the sickle at once,for the harvest has come."

He said,"To what shall we compare the kingdom of God,or what parable can we use for it?It is like a mustard seed that, when it is sown in the ground,is the smallest of all the seeds on the earth.But once it is sown, it springs up and becomes the largest of plantsand puts forth large branches,so that the birds of the sky can dwell in its shade."With many such parableshe spoke the word to them as they were able to understand it.Without parables he did not speak to them,but to his own disciples he explained everything in private.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Think

I have a mustard seed and I'm not afraid to use it. ~Pope Benedict XVI

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Pray

Dear Lord,

Help me to better love my husband and the father of my children. Let me listen to him genuinely and with love, always offering to him the disposition of firm belief in his best intentions. Let me see him as You do and inspire in him all the confidence to become the man you created him to be. Let my hands be busy making his home a place of comfort and peace. Remind me to speak often of my gratitude for him and for the hard work he does for our family. Help me to be generous and genuine with heartfelt affection. Let me sincerely offer to him the best of who I am. And, Jesus, help us both to wholeheartedly offer that best to our children.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Act

Take a few moments to put to paper a gratitude list. List all those things about your husband for which you are grateful. First, offer the list to prayer. Genuinely thank God for the gift of your good man. Then, in private, speak every one of those words aloud to him.

April 28, 2012

The internet is a formidable force for bringing the comfort and consolation and hope of the Lord to all of us. It can be an incredibily powerful medium for community. There is an unfathomable resource for prayer here. We have on the 'net the privilege of praying for people and of being witness to the miracles brought forth when fervent, faith-fulled people pray for one another.

Let's be that community of hope and faith for one another.

But how about this idea? What if I pop in here every weekend, share Sunday's gospel and talk a wee bit about how we can live it and pray it in our homes? And then you tell me how we can pray for you that week? Deal?

{And please, do return and let us know how prayer is bearing fruit.}

Jesus said:"I am the good shepherd.A good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep.A hired man, who is not a shepherdand whose sheep are not his own,sees a wolf coming and leaves the sheep and runs away,and the wolf catches and scatters them.This is because he works for pay and has no concern for the sheep.I am the good shepherd,and I know mine and mine know me,just as the Father knows me and I know the Father;and I will lay down my life for the sheep.I have other sheep that do not belong to this fold.These also I must lead, and they will hear my voice,and there will be one flock, one shepherd.This is why the Father loves me,because I lay down my life in order to take it up again.No one takes it from me, but I lay it down on my own.I have power to lay it down, and power to take it up again.This command I have received from my Father."

John 10: 11-18

Think

There are still so many millions of people who have not yet heard the message of a loving God, a God who sent his only Son to die for them. They seek meaning and happiness in their lives by pursuing all kinds of other goals which inevitably turn to ashes: material abundance, status in the eyes of others, power over others, mistaking pleasure and hedonism for happiness… In so doing, they reject Jesus the Good Shepherd. "Because the world refused to acknowledge him, therefore it does not acknowledge us." This is something we must learn to accept as a fact, even if it is hard to understand and even harder to take. No matter how closely we follow in the footsteps of our Shepherd, in fact, the more closely we follow him, the more likely it is that we will be rejected and even attacked. More tragic still, however, there are so many people who claim Christ as Lord, many of them very good and sincere people, who are often divided, even bitterly divided among themselves. Here, more than anywhere is there a need for all to follow one Shepherd and form one flock. Otherwise how can we give witness to the love of Christ if that love is lacking among the servants of Jesus? Lastly, there are those who, though incorporated through baptism into the Body of Christ, consistently behave in a way which totally distorts people’s understanding of Christ and his call to discipleship, fulfilment and happiness. Probably, most of us have at one time or another failed in our call to give witness to the truth and love that is to be found in Christ. (from Sacred Space)

Pray

Jesus, never let me fail to acknowledge you. Indeed, help me to go forth and glorify You with my life. Always. Everywhere. And in whatever company I find myself.

Act

Easter is a season and Good Shepherd Sunday is the perfect day to make a lamb cake (pictured above in ancient photo I just dug up). Rebecca has recipes and directions here. Lamb cake pan here. (Remember, it's a season. If you don't have the pan and can't find it locally, Jesus won't stop being the Good Shepherd on Monday. You have time, mama.)

April 13, 2012

The bluebells bloomed about a month early this year. I can't tell you how this rocked my world. I already had a jam-packed schedule in the three weeks before Holy Week. I was trying to finish Easter sewing, double up on lessons, do a spring cleaning and prepare to leave my children and go with my husband on a surprise trip. I knew that when I returned, I would be on the threshold of the Triduum, so I wanted to prepare well for that, too. And then, someone broke his nose, someone else got strep throat ( a first time ever for our family), and Mike's father ended up in the hospital for several days. One day, in the midst of it all, I got an email. "Bluebells expected to be at peak next week."

Bluebell Week is my favorite week of the year. It is my consoling thought during long winters. It is the burst of newness and springtime and hope that brings my weary spirit back to life. It is where I rejoice with my whole heart in God's glory in nature. I never miss it. And I never want my children to miss it.

This year, the weather was annoying during the bluebell's time in the sun (or not). Every day that I had a car available, rain was forecast. Friends we've met there every year were mostly unable to come, or couldn't come for very long. Sometime during the flower's blooming I received an email from a friend whose family we especially enjoy down at Bull Run. The subject line was "Bluebell Panic" because that's what I was feeling as I tried to make the calendar fashioned by my hands work with the God's timing of spring. My friend wrote, " I think that my family will have to wait until next year to see the bluebells again."

And in that moment, I felt an envy I have never felt before. I envied the ease with which she wrote "next year." I never do that. I never, ever assume next year. Heck, I never assume tomorrow. For twenty-two springs, twenty-two seasons of flowers blooming, I always wonder if fear that I won't see them bloom again. And I always, always take the time to make sure my family notices them, too. Just this year, I wanted the easy-breezy "next year" mentality.

Usually, I consider this awareness of the preciousness of time to be a great gift, perhaps the greatest gift of surviving cancer. I just don't take anything for granted. For the most part, it's made me more grateful than most people can imagine for every single heartbeat. It does, however, come with a bit of dark lining. I have trouble sitting still, trouble just being. I always have this sense of cramming every bit of living into every single moment because I don't know how short life is. I have trouble leaving my children--not because I'm worried something will happen to them while I'm away or that I won't return, but just because I know with every fiber of my being that I won't get those moments again. It's a pretty intense way to live.

This year, I recognized with startling clarity that God knew. God knew the intensity. And God knew the schedule and the weather and the state of my housekeeping. I handed it all to Him and asked Him to direct my days, to help me glorify Him with my time, and bring me the peace of heart and soul I knew I needed.

He began with the bluebells. We managed to squeeze in a couple very brief visits with friends with the promise to meet again. But then, those promises got swallowed up by logistics for those friends. Then, Linda, Nicholas' godmother, called and told me the absolute only day she could meet us there. Our meeting in the woods has been a tradition since before Nicholas could walk. Since before her son, Bobby, who is my godchild, was born. We cherish these days. We were together by the creek with the flowers the day the new Pope was elected. (That's a great story. You can click. I'll wait.) I looked around my house. I looked at my to-do list. No doubt, the house would stay dirty--the dirt would still be there. But the flowers would not stay in bloom. I took a deep breath. I recognized that I would, indeed, have a car available. We'll be there.

We went. The morning was glorious. Linda met me there with a friend. For over 20 years, people have been telling me I had to meet this lady. And for over 20 years, she's heard the same thing about me. We have a lot of mutual friends. One of them is Linda. And on this day, God brought us together. I shared my flowers with her. It's always such a joy to show someone the first time.

Around noon, all three of my big boys joined us. Nine children --all nine of my children-- together in the place we've made so many memories. Linda knows me well. Sensing that the enormity of the bittersweet was threatening the joy of the present moment, she began to seize the photo-op and direct my picture efforts. From behind the lens, my mind whirled. Next year, Patrick will be away at school, and probably Christian, too. Michael will likely be married by then, but certainly he will finally have a day job and be much less available. This could be the last time I snap a photo of all of them in the bluebells. The log they once sat on--back when there were only six of them--had long since decayed, a natural reminder that nothing ever stays the same. We have only today. And there was Linda. Directing and orchestrating, making sure we made the most of the moment.

I am so grateful.

I walked out of the woods that day with my new friend. We shared as if we'd know each other forever. I was struck by God's abundant goodness. And then, just when I thought the day couldn't be any fuller, God reminded me that I've had the great gift of bringing my children to this place for more than a decade. My new friend Jean was just beginning to know the bluebells. She came with her last little girl, a daughter my Sarah's age.

April 10, 2012

Last winter, when we returned from our long trip to Florida, I noticed that we were propelled into life in rapid motion. Everything seemed to be moving way too fast. Indeed, there were several crises, many of them urgent and pressing. From the time we got home, early in the third week of January, until the last week of March, I was in our pediatrician's office at least once a week, often many more times. He was a frequent caller at my home. And then there were the specialists to whom he was referring us. They were several and varied. With all this activity came the stress that illnesses visits upon mothers, but also, I noticed a severe interior stress--a straining almost to the breaking point. All these phone calls--and the visits to radiologists, orthodpedists, phlebotomists, cardiologists--all of it was just so much relentless noise to this introvert's spirit. Then, the first week that I didn't visit my pediatrician, my father-in-law was admitted to the hospital. The ICU is not a low stress place. I was more than fraying at the edges. I was unravelling at an alarming pace. I needed time to slow and I needed to quiet my soul. I wanted to stop living in fast forward and to begin to live intentionally again.

During this time of intensity, I did two things that I credit for saving my sanity: I gave up coffee and I returned to praying the entire Divine Office. Neither was my stated Lenten sacrifice. They both just happened as a graced gift of God.

I was very much out of my rhythm and feeling the lack of control that comes with a large family whose members are all suddenly needy at once. I recognized that I need to manage my stress better. I resolved to return to the practice of praying the Liturgy of the Hours. While it was counterintuitive to add this to my "to do list," I knew from prior experiences that this was not a "to do," it was a grace infusion. I trusted. And I set out with a very deliberate, very disciplined plan.

First thing in the morning, I seize that HeroicMoment. Here's where I'm honest and admit that it's not all that heroic for me. I'm totally a morning morning and relish the opportunity to see the sun rise outside my closet window. Yep. My closet. My exercise bike is in my closet and that's where I go for the first forty-five minutes of every day. My bike was a gift from my father, nearly 13 years ago. It is well loved. I pray the Invitatory, Morning Prayer, and the Office of Readings, while pedaling hard and long. Divineoffice.org on my iPod is my companion throughout the day. I listen and pray and pedal and start my day with energy and focus and an infusion of much needed grace.

When I am finished, I've usually burned close to 300 calories;-). Oh, and I've prayed the psalms, the Old and New Testament, and read spiritual reading from the greatest spiritual leaders throughout time. The Liturgy of the Hours is rich with scripture, particularly with psalms. The Catechism describes the prayer of the psalms as the great school of trust in God. When I return to the psalms throughout the day, I am reminded to trust and to give everything to God. In a time of life that is full of pressing demands and unexpected crises, this is a message I need to hear from Him all day long.

Before my prayer time, alone in my closet, is up, I've prayed for the intentions of the Universal Church, for my own intentions, and for you. I think that is a very good--and very simple-- use of 45 minutes. Then, I shower and dress for the day. Usually, no one is yet awake.

My husband is a television producer-director. He is conscious of "hard breaks," usually commerical spots that are already programmed into the broadcast. Whether the on-air talent is finished or not, that show is going to go to break at the pre-programmed time. When I was nursing babies, my spiritual director encouraged me to think of every time I stopped to nurse as a call to prayer. That strategy worked beautifully for many, many years. Now, I need my chimes. I've grown to think of my preprogrammed chimes as my hard breaks. Throughout the day, the chime of the bells compels me to stop what I am doing and redirects my efforts towards God. The effect of this intentional stopping is to slow time. Instead of the hours skittering away, the habit of intentional stopping for prayer focuses me.

Praying the Liturgy of the Hours was a very good way for me to get into the habit of stopping intentionally to refocus my day. After several weeks of this practice, I wanted to add other devotions, but I could sense that it would be impractical for me to add additional prayer time to praying all the Hours. I wrestled with the dilemma for awhile on my own with Jesus and then I sought spiritual direction.

My good and holy priest smiled when I explained the dilemma and reminded me that I was praying more hours of the Divine Office than parish priests are asked to pray. We talked a bit about which devotions best suited my spirituality and my state of life. And we came up with a new prayer plan. I kept the morning routine, but changed up the rest of the day.

The next time my iPod chimes, it's 10:00. By this time, Mike has cleared the bedroom and gone to work. I leave whatever I am doing and go back upstairs. iPod in the dock, I pray Midmorning Prayer while I make the bed and tidy our bedroom. This is usually under 15 minutes of prayer time, but it's a very effective booster shot midmorning. Depending on my household and how schoolish things are coming along, I might gather up my little brood for a morning walk. The iPod goes into the cup holder in the stroller. My littlest usually plops herself down to be pushed, and we go for 20-30 minutes, listening to and praying the rosary. There is a free app here and there are several beautiful versions of a longer sung rosary on CD here. Then, back home and back to work.

We usually say grace and pray the Angelus at lunchtime (the Regina Coeli during the Easter season) and there's an app for that. There are several apps, actually. The one linked is a very simple one that has a chime that rings at noon (it can be programmed to ring at 6 AM and 6PM, too). If you have a favorite Angelus app, please chime in and let me know.

The next chime goes off at 3:00, the hour of mercy. There's an app for that, too. (And it's free;-) Back outside for about 25 minutes or so, depending on what I choose to use to pray the Chaplet. My favorite version of the Divine Mercy Chaplet is about 11 minutes longer than the spoken version. But even if I use the long version, that's only an 18 minute walk. Usually, I just keep walking and praying. Somehow, being outside is really important to slowing time and the movement of my body helps my to focus.

If this moving and praying is liturgically incorrect, I beg the Lord's grace. I think of Jesus as my exercise companion. He goes along with me on bike rides and long walks. I'm not a monk. My religious community is a motley crew of children with incessant needs. I need this outside break to my inside day and so do they. I need to move. This is where a 2:00 cup of coffee with sugar used to go. No more. I was never a huge coffee drinker. A cup in the morning, maybe, and then that 2:00 shot of caffeine. But with the increased exercise and the loss of sugar for Lent, all my desire for coffee evaporated. Vanished. Now I let God's mercy and the great outdoors fuel my late afternoon and evening. And I have found that our Lord is abundantly generous!

The bells chime again at 5:30. Evening prayer. This one is tricky. Always has been. We might be driving at this time, or I might be making dinner. If we are in the car, an iPod port makes it easy to listen to my iPod and go right on praying. At home, earbuds in the kitchen work just fine. My prayer time is rarely still. It's almost always active. Honestly, I find it easier to focus when I'm moving, but I do worry on occasion that our Lord asked that we "Be still and know that I am God." (Psalms 46:10) I try to get to Mass several times a week and I'm pretty still there...

While I cuddle my little ones to sleep, we listen to the rosary, if we haven't yet prayed it that day. Or we listen to favorite lullabies. I love this time. There is a peace to watching them drift to sleep, accompanied by prayer and song.

Night Prayer requires no alarm either. This is a well-established habit. I am in bed and still. Often, instead of my iPod, I use this lovely book. (Ouch, that's an outrageous new price. I do wish they'd publish these books again. They are so beautiful and there's nothing else like them.) It's all the better if I pray Night Prayer with my husband. It's a beautiful, peaceful way to end the day. No coffee. Lots of fresh air and exercise. An abundance of prayer. Even the sleep hours are so much more effective that they are mysteriously multiplied.

All good. All grace.

Above is the outline of a day gone well. It's the ideal. Some days are less predictable. Some days are cranky and out of sorts. Some days, it's all I can do when the bells chime to throw my apron over my head and whisper, "Jesus, mercy!"

That works, too. For me, I've found that the habit of constant reconnecting with the Lord is the "how" of living an intentional, striving-for-holiness life. It's a habit I mean to keep.

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Why?

...that their hearts may be encouraged as they are knit together in love, to have all the riches of assured understanding and the knowledge of God's mystery, of Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures or wisdom and knowledge. ~Col 2:2

FULL DISCLOSURE

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